Sweet Devil [BL]

Misha lazily sprawled on his desk, staring at the blackboard with empty eyes. His mind was wandering elsewhere, and the teacher's words went in one ear and out the other, becoming background noise.

The conversation between his sister and Gabriel was the only thing he could think of. No matter what he tried, Misha couldn't get it out of his head. Last night, he even lost his sleep over it, which resulted in big dark purple bags hanging under his eyes. They were quite conspicuous on his clear, pale skin, drawing people's attention.

But he couldn't do anything about it. Lately, having a good sleep was becoming harder by the day. Although he often fell asleep like the dead, it wasn't a restorative sleep, and he sure didn't feel refreshed in the morning.

After his travel back in time, Misha started to learn different facts he had never known or that he had never cared about. With his grow-up mind, he was able to discern some pieces of information that he hadn't figured out as a child, weighing him down.

Misha knew very well that he wasn't a genius. Like always, he was only following his guts, and thus many things remained shrouded in mystery. Still, anyone with a brain could tell that Gabriel's family situation was not only complicated but also twisted.

As for Masha, she seemed to be in the know, helping her boyfriend to handle his stepmother's viciousness, even if it was at the cost of her own happiness.

Unconsciously, the boy slightly narrowed his eyes.

How much did his sister know? Has she always been aware of Gabriel's real personality? In their past life, was he the only one who was left in the dark, clueless about Gabriel's ordeals and problems?

The boy bit his lips. The same thoughts were coming back to hunt him again. What he had learned lately had shaken him up to his core, making his nights restless.

Like it or not, Misha had hated Gabriel for so many years, blaming him for everything, for his misery and lonely days. Now that he was gradually learning that reality wasn't what he had always thought to be, his whole world started to shatter pieces by pieces, and a new one slowly started to take form.

Nonetheless, his heart was only growing heavier each day. He couldn't accept a new reality so easily.

A sigh escaped his lips, and the loud, shrill voice of his teacher resonated within the class:

"Misha! If my teaching is so boring that it makes you sleepy enough to drool on your desk, you might as well leave the class and go home. I'm sure your parents will be more than happy to tuck you up in bed."

The woman, who was in her late forties, appeared particularly aggravated by Misha's behavior. She had been his teacher last year, and she knew what to expect from that kid. He was the kind of child who was always spacing out, staring at who knew what.

A brainless brat that didn't understand anything, even the most simple problems. It was infuriating to grade that kid's papers tests, which were more often than not filled with stupid mistakes when they weren't blank.

That kid was sure to grow into a good-for-nothing, becoming a burden for society. Consequently, teaching him was a waste of her time, and she would much prefer to focus her efforts on the children who were dutifully listening to her lessons and whose grades were excellent.

Sadly, she couldn't do so and still had to take care of that problem child.

Lately, Misha wasn't spacing out as much, but instead, he shamelessly slept on his desk or yawned all day long.

Today, she finally couldn't take it anymore and snapped.

Under the disdainful eyes of his teacher, Misha blinked a few times before smiling brightly, saying in a cheerful tone while straightening his back like a proper student:

"What are you waiting for? Don't waste time and call my parents! I can't wait to go home and sleep in a soft, warm bed. You know, my desk is actually very hard, making my neck sore."

The woman choked on her words, staring at the child with bulging eyes.

That teacher often picked on him not only because she found him displeasing to the eyes, but also because he was an easy target. The other children isolated him, and he was mentally weak. She could vent her frustration on him as much as she wanted, pointing out everything that was wrong with him without an ounce of delicacy.

Usually, whenever she brought up his parents, Misha would shrink back into a corner and become obedient.

Yet, today seemed different. That kid dared to talk back with such a light tone, leaving her speechless.

"What? You're not going to call?" sighed Misha, slightly bending his bust over the desk as he lazily propped his chin with his hand, staring at the woman with cold blue eyes.

Although his memories about his childhood were blurred, he still had a faint impression of that particular teacher. She had been worse than the bullies, always reprimanding him before his classmates for his poor grades. She used him as an example of what not to become, crushing his self-esteem again and again.

If it hadn't been for his mother and sister's help, he would never have been able to get passing grades. From the very beginning, that teacher deemed him as an idiot and didn't intend to teach him properly.

Later, it was Gabriel who helped him with his classes, patiently teaching him everything. Of course, his grades still weren't astonishing, but they were passable, and it was enough to rejoice both his sister and Gabriel, who would then praise him to no end.

As long as he did his best, they were satisfied. He didn't need to be the best; he didn't need to be smart; he just needed to be himself.

Unlike his younger self, Misha wasn't easily affected by other people's words when he considered them as outsiders. He didn't take it to heart anymore. Moreover, as an a.d.u.l.t, he didn't need that woman's teaching and certainly didn't care about being rude. He wasn't afraid to be a bother to his parents either.

His mother was a housewife and wasn't as busy as his father. She had the time to come and fetch him, and knowing her, she wouldn't lose her temper over such a small matter. Instead, she would pamper him and ask him if something had happened in school, comforting him with a gentle voice.

Right now, his head hurt like hell, and thus he did indeed miss his bed very much. He had nothing left to learn from this school but still had to go to maintain appearance.

In the end, as long as he didn't fail his classes, he didn't care about the rest.

Anyway, he wasn't so stupid as being unable to answer a few primary school paper tests, so even if he skipped school every day, it wouldn't be problematic.

In his eyes, going to school was only a waste of time. Misha had more urgent matters to attend to. Gabriel's present situation was worrisome, and if this wasn't enough, he still had to think about the future.

A drunkard was to hit his mother on Christmas Eve in a few months, and his sister would take her own life in a few years. So, of course, he didn't feel like studying, much less entertaining his teacher.

Well, he could still make an effort and swallow back the curses and insults, trying to act a little like a boy of his age. It shouldn't be too difficult as he had always been bratty, according to his friends.

In any case, there was no way he would let a teacher make his life a living hell, even more so when he was minding his own business.

"You! Don't disrespect your teacher, or do you want a warning?" said the woman through gritted teeth, a stiff smile stretching her bright red lips.

"How am I rude? Aren't you the one who wants to send me home?" shrugged Misha, blatantly ignoring her fierce gaze. "If agreeing with you makes me rude, then I won't agree with you anymore."

Before the teacher could reply, there was a knock on the door, drawing everyone's attention. It seemed like the transfer student had just arrived, cutting short the teacher's fit of temper.

Still, the woman didn't forget to glare at Misha, warning him, "This is not the end of it, you heard me?"

"How can I not hear you? Your voice is louder than thunder," answered Misha, picking his ear with a bored look on his face.

However, that bored look instantly faded away when his eyes landed on the transfer student, and his mouth fell agape.

The boy inwardly cried out, "What the hell is she doing here!?"

MC: Gabriel is a better teacher than that nag. Hmpf.

ML: Well, even though I took the time to teach you, you still didn't graduate from high school.

MC: I didn't say anything. You're a bad teacher.

ML: ...